


The Merits of Proper Vehicular Care

by dannyPURO



Series: The Merits of Proper Vehicular Care [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mechanics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Enjolras is bad at cars, Get your oil changed 2k18, M/M, Misunderstandings, Smut, it's not PWP but it's close
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 08:51:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15360777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannyPURO/pseuds/dannyPURO
Summary: It’s Combeferre who ends up making Enjolras go to the mechanic....“You’ve never had your oil changed?” the man says, clutching the note in his hand like a lifeline.Enjolras shakes his head mutely. “I-” He swallows. “Am I supposed to?”





	The Merits of Proper Vehicular Care

**Author's Note:**

> Just some nice sexy mechanic Grantaire for you.
> 
> Enjolras enjoys; so should you.

It’s Combeferre who ends up making Enjolras go to the mechanic.

Enjolras doesn’t understand _why_ , exactly, he is at the garage. He’s got a note in his pocket, though, courtesy of Combeferre, because Combeferre understands that as soon as anyone starts talking about cars, Enjolras tunes out.

Speaking of, Enjolras is already bored. He’s just pulled into the lot and he is already bored. He could be working that blog post right now. He could be on twitter. He could be doing all sorts of productive things, and yet, he is here, at the mechanic’s, for an unspecified reason that he will never care about ever in his life.

However, Combeferre has changed his twitter password, and has sworn that he won’t tell Enjolras what it is until he goes and gets his car fixed. And so Enjolras enters the garage.

“My associate,” he says, scowling, to the muscled man behind the register, “has made me get my car fixed.”

The man blinks. Enjolras looks him over in the meantime. His coveralls say _Bahorel_ on the front. “What’s wrong with your car?” asks Bahorel the Mechanic, as if Enjolras has any business knowing anything about his car.

He slaps the envelope down on the counter.

Bahorel opens the envelope, reads the note over what looks like a total of three times, and then bursts out laughing.

“What?” Enjolras asks, affronted. He’s going to kill Combeferre.

Bahorel shakes his head. “Just give me a minute,” he says, and then he disappears into the back of the shop.

He comes back with the most attractive man Enjolras has ever seen in his life. He’s got his coveralls tied around his waist, leaving him in a sweat-drenched tank top and leaving Enjolras wanting to cry, because he’s muscled and tan and tattooed and he’s got big brown eyes that crinkle at the corners and okay, okay, maybe Enjolras had some formative porno experiences as a youth, but his hands, and the way they’re all calloused and covered in engine grease, are really doing things to him.

“You’ve never had your oil changed?” the man says, clutching the note in his hand like a lifeline.

Enjolras shakes his head mutely. “I-” He swallows. “Am I supposed to?”

“Yes, Apollo, you are supposed to. How long have you had the car?”

It is, in Enjolras’s opinion, absolutely unfair for anyone to expect him to remember meaningless facts like when he bought his car when he can’t fucking _breathe_. “It should say in the note,” he manages.

“Christ.” He opens the note, reads it again, and makes a little mournful sound. “Three years?”

Enjolras bites his lip. “I don’t drive _that_ much?” he offers, wincing.

Bahorel laughs again and thumps the other man on the shoulder. “You’ve got this one, R.”

R. _R_. That is… not a name, it’s a letter, but it’s better than nothing and Enjolras will take what he can get.

“So, M. Enjolras,” R says, spreading his arms. “Take me to your poor vehicle. Let’s see how much havoc you’ve managed to wreck.”

He does, and, per R’s request, drives it around to the garage. It’s empty, aside for the two of them, and it’s kind of nice. Cozy. Not that he’d ever admit that to Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, or literally anybody.

Maybe R, though.

“This is nice. Cozy,” Enjolras says, like an idiot.

R laughs, and Christ, that’s a nice sound. Enjolras kind of wants to make him laugh again, sometime. “Well, I was gonna say you can wait in the front, but if you like it so much, you can stay here and keep me company. Won’t take long.”

Enjolras settles in a folding chair in the corner and watches R. He works bent over the hood for a bit-- and if Enjolras ogles his ass just a little bit, at this point, he is not to blame, and then goes to work beneath the car. At which point Enjolras kind of checks out and occupies himself with fantasizing about R doing dirty, dirty things to him in those fucking coveralls.

“You should really change your oil every eight thousand miles or so,” R says, making Enjolras jump. Somehow, Enjolras must not have noticed when he got out from under the car.

“I- Y-yeah?” Shit, he may or may not be a little hard. What the fuck, is he a teenager or something?

“Yeah.” He shuts the hood. “Some places say three thousand, but that’s excessive. Really, there’s no need. Just don’t wait three years.”

“Okay.”

He turns, shoving his curls back from his face, and stops, frozen, gaze locked on Enjolras’s crotch. Because Enjolras has a boner, like a fucking creep, which he probably is, and which R now knows, shit, god damn it. He takes a breath.

Enjolras shuts his eyes. “I am… so, so sorry. This is so inappropriate, I cannot apologise enough. I-”

He stops talking when R takes a step towards him, fingers twitching, eyes wide.

“R?” he asks, and R nearly fucking _whines_.

“Do you… do you want-” Enjolras watches him swallow, take a deep breath. “If you want, I could… I could take care of that for you.”

Enjolras gapes at him. There’s no way- he can’t have- that’s a line straight out of a porno, and he’s the hottest guy Enjolras has ever god damn seen, and he wants to touch Enjolras’s dick. He nods weakly.

R drops to his knees.

Enjolras is pretty sure he’s about to hyperventilate. He watches R’s broad fingers undo the buttons of his pants, and tug them down his hips, and then _holy shit,_ R licks a wide, hot stripe up Enjolras’s cock.

There is no way this is happening. This is not something that happens to him. He’s about one harsh definition away from virginity, and a sweaty, tattooed mechanic is sucking him off in a garage.

He isn’t completely sure that this isn’t a weird wet dream.

Then R takes him fully into his mouth, and he’s certain that it isn’t one, because he just hasn’t ever _felt_ this much before, at all, let alone in a dream. This is real, so real, amazingly real.

He becomes aware, as he drifts back out of his babbling subconscious, that he isn’t actually the most nonchalant of blowjob receivers. He’s panting, and mumbling shit that’s way too serious, all things considered-- asking him to stay forever, telling him he’s the most attractive person he’s ever seen, going on and on about his hands and his mouth and his shoulders. He’s got his hands tangled in R’s curls, too, and he’s sure he’s tugging, but R doesn’t seem to mind at all.

R looks up at him, after a bit, with those wide eyes, and sucks him deep again, and Enjolras whines. He can’t deal with this. All he can feel is hot, tight suction and R’s tongue and the hands he’s got clamped so firmly around his thighs he’s sure he’ll have ten little bruises for days.

Admittedly, he’s a little partial to the idea.

“R,” he gasps, when R does a particularly spectacular thing with his tongue and he just can’t take it anymore. “R, I can’t- I’m gonna come. I’m gonna-”

R pulls off, just barely, staying so close that his lips brush the head of Enjolras’s cock when he speaks. “Okay,” he says, voice rough and soft, before taking Enjolras deep again, and that’s it. He’s gone.

He comes down R’s throat in an instant, gasping and moaning and pulling at his hair.

It’s the best orgasm he’s ever had in his life. It takes him a moment to recover from it, and when he does, he looks down at Grantaire, who is already watching him.

“I-” Enjolras uncurls his fingers from R’s hair. “I can… return the favor, if you want.”

R looks almost shocked, and hopelessly pleased, but he shakes his head. “No, I, um… It’s not a problem anymore.” He gestures to the front of his coveralls, where Enjolras can just barely see a dark stain on the navy blue of the fabric.

“Christ,” Enjolras says, running a finger over R’s cheekbone.

R smiles just slightly, lets himself indulge in the touch for a moment, and then stands up so suddenly that Enjolras is left a little stunned. “Right. That’s that.”

“That’s… what?”

“Your oil change,” he says, brusquely, “So I’ll just take you back out to the front, unless you have any questions.”

“What’s your name?” Enjolras blurts out, before he can stop himself.

R laughs, clearly surprised. “Why, so you can get my help three years from now after not heeding any of my warnings?”

Enjolras’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “No, I just- you-”

“I’m kidding,” he says, voice suddenly soft. “It’s Grantaire.”

“Grantaire.”

“You got it.”

“Grantaire, would you like to go on a date with me?”

He stiffens, the playful little smile on his face dropping like a stone. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Oh. Enjolras must have… he must have miscalculated again, and gotten caught up in his own daydreams and projected his feelings onto Grantaire. “Oh.” He clears his throat, attempts a recovery. “I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“Enjolras, I don’t think your partner would like that very much.”

Enjolras freezes where he’s been attempting to shove his book back into his bag. “My what?”

Grantaire sighs. “Your partner, your boyfriend, whatever.”

Grantaire isn’t making any sense. “Who?”

He scowls. “Don’t… don’t pull that shit on me, okay? I feel horrible enough already that I fucking let you cheat on your partner with me. Don’t lie to me, too.”

Enjolras shakes his head, trying to clear it. “I’m not.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and won’t meet Enjolras’s gaze. “Bahorel told me. Your partner. The one who made you get your car fixed. The one who wrote the note.”

Enjolras finds himself smiling and taking a step towards Grantaire. “Combeferre and I aren’t together,” he says, voice soft. “I don’t know what I said to Bahorel, but it wasn’t that. He’s my best friend. We’ve never been together. He’s engaged to my other best friend.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet, for a moment, before Grantaire speaks up again. “Were you serious? About that date?”

Enjolras nods. “Really, really serious.”

Grantaire scoffs, though it seems as though he only elects to do so because he is unsure of what else to do with himself. “Jesus, man, what on Earth would you want from a guy like me?”

“I think you’re the most attractive person I’ve ever met,” Enjolras admits, because he figures it’s time for honesty. “And I know I don’t know you very well at all, but I really want to _get_ to know you, because you seem sweet and funny and really good at blowjobs and I want to take you on a date.”

The frown is back. Enjolras doesn’t even know what he did wrong. “Please don’t fuck with me,” Grantaire says, and Enjolras doesn’t understand. Sure, his nose is large and crooked, and his smile is too, and he’s a little stocky, and he’s got a couple pockmarks on his cheeks, but Enjolras kind of loves it all.

He’s kind of already ridiculously gone for this man. “I- I’m not. I swear, I was telling the complete truth. You- you walked into the room and I didn’t even know what to do with myself.”

Grantaire shakes his head slowly, but he’s smiling like he can’t help it, and Enjolras wants to make him smile like that forever. “Alright, Apollo, your choice.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“I can’t promise you’ll enjoy yourself, but sure. That’s a yes. Have you seen yourself? Of course I’ll go out with you.”

Enjolras wants to click his heels in the air like Courf is prone to do. “Today?” he asks, and maybe he sounds a little too over enthusiastic, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Grantaire laughs. “I get off at six, if you’re that eager. You can pick me up in that fully-maintenanced car, how about that?”

Enjolras thinks it sounds absolutely wonderful.

**Author's Note:**

> This whole fic has been a PSA. 
> 
> Get your oil changed.


End file.
